


My Inspiration

by Beth Harker (Beth_Harker)



Category: Newsies (1992)
Genre: Fluff, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 08:27:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17220416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beth_Harker/pseuds/Beth%20Harker
Summary: Blink tries to write a love poem. Skittery, Swifty, and Mush help.





	My Inspiration

It wasn’t often that anybody used the desk by the window of the lodging house dormitory. It was too rickety to stand on without risking your neck, otherwise it would’ve made a good podium for announcements and tap dancing. A few of the guys liked to write sometimes, but mostly they did that in their bunk, so the others wouldn’t hover and ask questions. The desk was just for if someone was writing something important, and wanted to make sure that the other fellas knew it.

The desk was Blink’s poetry station. He claimed (loudly and adamantly) that he wrote one poem every Friday night, though more often than not he went months without putting pen to paper, and when he did it wasn’t always on Fridays. Sometimes he wrote about exciting things, like cheering on his fellow strikers. Other times, it was about even more exciting things, like girls. Tonight it was about Lucinda the laundry girl who worked down the street. Skittery, Mush, Jake, Snoddy, Pie Eater and Swifty were gathered around watching Blink write. He’d drawn a good audience, and he was beaming with satisfaction.

“I gotta hook her in with a snappy beginning,” Blink said, tapping the tip of his pen against the desk’s edge, regardless of of the inky blotches it left. “I got it! Hey lovely Lucinda come with me to eat… ”

“You’ve got long curly hair,” Skittery interjected. “And you’ve got big stinky feet.”

Blink, who had started to jot down Skittery’s addition to the poem, got as far as the letter F at the beginning of the word feet, before stopping abruptly. “Hey,” he said. “That ain’t nice.” He scowled, and scribbled out what he’d just written, even as the other boys around him laughed.

“You should tell her she’s got pretty eyes and you like her a lot,” Mush suggested.

“That’s good Mush, real good, but I gotta make it rhyme.” Blink scratched his head, his face scrunching up, as it did when he was deep in thought.

“Tell her you think she’s smart,” Mush went on. “And funny. You can say she’s got nice teeth. That rhymes with feet, yeah?”

“Feet,” Jake repeated, like it was the funniest word in the world. Evidently, the other boys agreed, or else there was an echo in the room.

“Let’s leave her feet out of this,” said Blink. “Nobody gets inspiration from anybody’s feet, and inspiration’s the most important part of being a writer.”

“I could write a poem about your feet,” said Skittery, with a little shrug that indicated he was hoping someone would ask him about it. Mush obliged.

“What’d you say about Kid’s feet, huh Skittery?”

“It would be one of those epic poems, I guess,” Skittery explained, his expression mock-thoughtful. “With me as the protagonist. That means hero, before you two ask. It’d be all about living in this lodging house with Blink and his feet, and I’d call it an Ode to Misery.”

There was a split second between Blink realizing what Skittery was saying, and giving chase. That gave Skittery just enough time to get a head start, amidst the cheers and hoots of the other boys, who were always spoiling for a good fight.

Swifty took the opportunity to sit down at the desk, and take up the pen, writing so quickly that if the room had been in a less explosive state, everybody would have been very impressed.

_All hear my tale of lodging woes,  
Where Skits insulted Blink’s fair toes,  
And so he punched him in the nose.._

Oblivious to what Swifty was doing, Blink, Skittery, and several others raced past the desk.

 _“They ran round and round like stupid horses”_ , Swifty continued to write, then stopped to think what rhymed with horses, and if he ought to switch it out for something else. That’s the point when Mush, breathing heavily, stopped to see what he was doing.

“You write real good,” Mush said. “Can you tell me what it says quick, before anybody punches anybody’s lights out?”

“Thanks, no problem,” Swifty said. He read the words as quickly as he could. He didn’t want to keep Mush from the fight for too long.

“That’s great,” Mush said, smiling like Swifty had just solved all his problems. “Could you write a happy ending where no one gets hurt?”

“Sure.”

Swifty shrugged and went back to his writing, while Mush dashed off to try to break up the fight. Plenty of people said writing was a powerful tool for all kinds of things, but it wasn’t smart to rely on it to work wonders all on its own. Besides, Swifty didn’t want to give Skittery and Blink their happy ending without sending them on a few adventures first, and there was no telling how much trouble they’d get into before he was finished.


End file.
